


long live the king.

by ghcsttown



Series: long live the king [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Angst, Blood and Injury, Clay | Dream-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Historical Inaccuracy, Hurt No Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I Wrote This While Listening to Hozier's Music, King GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Knight Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), M/M, Major Character Injury, My First Work in This Fandom, amen amen amen, blood ment, by the way, george im so sorry sweetie, is this what yall wanted!!!!, possible second part, semi graphic injury description, take this from me please, this is my first time trying past-tense AND third person so pls be gentle wif me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 17:21:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28603605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghcsttown/pseuds/ghcsttown
Summary: “the blood of his would-be lover stained his hands. ‘long live the king!’ they cried.”
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: long live the king [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2167008
Comments: 3
Kudos: 84





	long live the king.

**Author's Note:**

> hi hi hi!!! this is my first published work in this fandom and. i am so embarrassed please
> 
> if either dream or george change their minds and decide they are NOT okay with shipping, this will be taken down immediately.

It was poetic, really. They’ve been here thousands of times, fought this fight thousands of times. But this fight, out of every other fight possible, he had to lose his balance.

Clay had watched it happen, but knew he couldn’t do anything to stop it. It was inevitable. His heart had dropped to his stomach as he saw George stumble, falling onto a broken wooden stake. 

He saw George realize what had happened. He saw George try to push himself up. He saw the blood, all that fucking blood, pour out of George’s small frame. 

The other men in the field had, at Clay’s orders, rushed to take on the onslaught of enemies rushing towards them without his help. 

He ran as fast as he could across the field, weaving through dead bodies of the royal army and the criminals alike, tripping over swords and axes, just to get to George. 

Everything was blurring around him as he threw attackers out of the way, piercing them with his sword. A large man loomed over George, watching him struggle with the wood that had pierced through his stomach. Clay had no problem taking him down. 

He fell to the ground with a deep thud, mud coating his previously shining armor. 

“Hi,” George groaned, smiling a wide and bloody smile at the knight. 

“Quiet,” Clay mumbled, his breath ragged and ill timed as he put his uncovered hands on the king's stomach in an attempt to stop the bleeding. “It’ll be alright, your majesty,”

“Clay,” George coughed, reaching a bloody hand up to touch the blond's face. “I think it’s over.”

“No-” He choked, applying more pressure. Tears threatened to spill over the floodgates, but Clay wouldn’t let them. He had to stay strong. For George. It was always all for George. “We- we will get the medic. He can get you off. We’ll get you into bed and you will be as spry as you were yesterday morning in no time at all.” 

“No, no,” George said, his eyes just barely open as he stared at his knight, the same secret look of affection for Clay he always carried glazing his eyes over. “I don’t want that.”

Clay couldn’t move. He couldn’t think, he couldn’t speak, he couldn’t breathe. The screams and blood of dying men surrounded him, but the only thing he cared about was George. 

“Before,” George started again, his voice growing weaker by the minute. “Before I go,”

“Stop,” Clay muttered, voice cracking as the tears finally overflowed. “Please.” He pressed his head down to George’s chest, staining his tan skin with crimson blood. His hands were shaking as they held onto the king, a nonverbal plea for him to just hold on.

“Before I go,” George coughed, pushing Clay’s head up as he held his jaw, leaving bloody handprints to mix with dark freckles. (George always said they were kisses from the Gods, but Clay always laughed it off mumbling something about staying in the sun too long as a boy.) “I want to tell you that you mean more to me than you will ever know.”

Clay’s eyes widen, silent tears painting clear lines through dark red fluid. His heart was beating out of his chest. George just had to hold on, hold on, hold on.

“You, Clay, have stolen my affections.” He laughed. It was dry; weak. He didn’t have long, and they could both tell. Blood was spilling out the corners of his mouth, dripping onto the fresh morning grass. “It would be a heinous lie to say otherwise.”

“I told you to put on your armor,” Clay pleaded, eyes darting across George’s face, trying to memorize every last bit of it before he was to be buried in the dark and sunken Earth.  
“It was always you,” George muttered, weak willed and tired. The fight was drawing to a close, but Clay could see the medic across the field. “It always will be you.”

“Don’t leave me,” Clay sobbed, resting his forehead against George’s. Just a little bit longer. “Please.”

All George did was smile, his own tears falling now, the pain in his stomach spreading as everything started to grow dark. 

“Favor,” George slurred, his cold fingers tapping on the side of Clay’s neck, just under his jaw. “Kiss… please,”

“Georgie,” Clay whispered. 

“Please,” George whispered back. The knight nodded, closing his eyes and pressing his lips gently to the kings. 

It was soft and sweet, everything Clay wanted their first kiss to be. He thought it was some horrid prank, at first. His first kiss with George being his last. It didn’t seem fair. 

It tasted like blood and tears and dirt and pain and death all at once. 

“I love you,” Clay sobbed, pressing another soft kiss to the top of George’s head. “I love you,” A kiss on the cheek. “I love you,” Nose. “I love you,” The corner of his mouth. “I love you.”

“I wish we had time,” Clay finished. 

“We will.” George smiled. “Someday, we will.”

Clay let out a wet laugh, and smiled down at George.

In that moment, he didn’t see a soldier or a king, he saw a boy. Tired and afraid of what was about to happen. 

But he watched George’s eyes close, he watched George’s chest fall, and at that moment, he knew it was over. Things would never be the same. The world would wake up today with a new sovereign. Soldiers would go home today to protect George’s younger sister. Clay would go back to the palace to bury George today. 

Clay’s head was tucked into the crook of George’s neck. His body was racked with loud, ugly sobs as he held onto George, silently praying for him to come back. But he knew, deep down, that all of George’s words had been spoken with finality. He knew that it was over before it even began. 

The medic had stopped in his tracks and the royal army had gathered around them soon after an Earth moving scream had erupted from Clay, the blood of his would-be lover staining his hands.

“Long live the king!” They cried, kneeling down and sticking their swords in the wet soil of the flower fields. “Long live the king!”

“Long live the king.” Clay whispered.

**Author's Note:**

> WC: 1051
> 
> thank you for reading!!! feedback is appreciated :]


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